Freedom of Movement

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I’m going to be writing a series of entries this summer focusing on cultural attitudes towards various transportation methods and how this impacts individual mobility. I’ll save the U.S./Europe comparisons for a later post(s), because there is a wealth of information to extract there. For this first entry I’d like to start with a basic assessment of the level of freedom of movement that our society considers to be a basic human right.

I’m sure this line caused more than a few quizzical stares, it seems wrong to American ears. I can’t even count the times that drivers have shouted at me to “get that bike on the sidewalk!” And yet it’s true: driving is a privilege. Walking and biking, on the other hand, are unlicensed (though certainly not unregulated) activities. While cyclists can be ticketed for breaking traffic laws, there are no legal statutes in this country that impose a suspension or revocation of “bicycling privileges” for any crime. This is actually an important point and provides the first step in defining freedom of movement.

While this next point may seem a bit esoteric, I think it’s also important to address horses in this discussion. In rural parts of Virginia and Maryland near the DC metro area horseback riding is a popular sport. However, if you go just a few miles further south-east towards the Shenandoah Valley or north into Pennsylvania you’ll soon see the horse-drawn buggies of the region’s Mennonite and Amish communities sharing the roads with cars. I love this regional feature because it’s such a poignant reminder that while cars may be the norm and horses seem like a relic of ancient history, there was never actually a point where riding horses on public roads became illegal. Rather, it just faded (tremendously) in popularity.

Horses: moving people and goods since… umm… forever.

Equestrians in the state of Virginia face the same traffic regulations as cyclists: “follow all the same rules as cars,” and are similarly prohibited from controlled-access highways such as interstates. Remember that turns can be indicated with hand/arm signals and there is no minimum speed limit except on certain controlled-access highways which are prohibited anyway. I would *love* to see some of our local equestrians riding in the road, just as a “flexing your rights” exercise. Getting back to the point: roads do not exist for cars. Say it out loud, “Roads do not exist for cars!” Roads exist for people because people like to move about freely. Overwhelmingly, of course, people choose to move about in cars. It is important to note, however, that motorists only provide 51% of funding for roads, despite causing 100% of wear-and-tear (ever seen a potholed cycle track?).

The beginning of an enduring relationship.

At this point we have established a reasonable idea of the boundaries of individual freedom of movement: a citizen is free to travel as they wish by any human or animal-powered conveyance within the boundaries of their home country (passport control is beyond the scope of this discussion). That sounds fantastic! I happen to live in a very large country with a plethora of exciting destinations and an extensive network of roads, maintained with my tax dollars, to guide me to them.

So I should be able to grab my trusty horse, bike, or boots and go exploring, right? Of course we know it’s not quite that simple: our transportation infrastructure caters to one customer, the motorist. Pedestrians and cyclists frequently face danger and difficulty getting around on our roads (and equestrians too!), and motorists are rarely punished for causing injury or death. In a nation founded on ideals of “inalienable rights” it may seem stunning that the preferences of motorists are given such higher priority than the most basic rights of non-motorists. The remaining posts in this series will seek to examine the attitudes embedded in our culture that have led to this condition.